Department of Investigative Services

The fluorescent lights flickered to life as the first soul to work entered the office, a 25 by 30 room with three desks, a couch, a small kitchenette, and a window view of the entire city. That particular office sat on the sixth floor, giving it just enough privacy to operate without care, but close enough to hit the ground running, should the need arise. The sign on the frosted glass door read simply, 'Department of Investigative Services'.

Taking his seat on one side of the window, Ezra turned to stare out at the city. It was almost a ritual for the young man to watch the sun come up. He was always first to arrive, and almost last to leave. He really had no life outside of the DIS, so he didn't mind the long hours. The agency did have its perks, however.

The pay was good, the view was decent, but most of all he had the opportunity to stretch out and use his abilities as he had been taught by his father. Ezra's powers made him an exceptional fighter and investigator. Social skills, however, were lost on him, so he relied on his colleagues to keep him in check.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Be-Thunk.

Ryliee slammed her hand down on her alarm clock, either successfully hitting the off button, or breaking it. Both were perfectly fine in her opinion. Why the sun rose, and the work day started so early, were beyond her; she was not a morning person in any sense of the word. Her short, choppy locks were tangled and sticking up in every direction, but it wasn't something a quick brush couldn't fix.

With a groan, the young woman rolled out of her bed, and onto the floor, pulling the blankets with her. Her only thoughts were on coffee, and her normal cursing at the fact that it was not Friday. As she got ready for work, she continually grumbled to herself, under her breath. When she arrived at work, her mood had not improved, and as usual the weird one was there early, sitting by the window. Huffing, she flicked the lights off as she entered the office room, slumping at her desk, which was situated in the furthest corner from the windows, and she let her head fall flat into the hard metal surface.

There were a lot of things Ryliee hated: mornings, people to just give an example. But, mix them together and that was almost the worse combination she could think of. With their chopper good mornings, and their bright smiles. What the hell could they possibly be happy about so early in the day? Then again, if she wasn't up so late at night maybe she'd like the sun, and mornings... and people.

...nah. Ryliee would still hate all of that.

Briefly the door squealed as it opened on its aging hinges, alerting him that his colleague had arrived. A brief glance at his clock told him that she was on time, according to her time. She seemed to arrive a few minutes later than scheduled, but it didn't bother him. Ezra didn't really mind being alone, as it gave him time to think and collect data before anyone had time to interrupt him. She plopped down at her desk, in a manner similar to the times she had arrived before. It seemed that Ryliee was just as routine-oriented as he, though she was still full of surprises.

Ezra did not speak to her for quite a while, knowing full well that any response he received would be one of irritation. Instead he quietly moved to the coffee maker and started a fresh pot. Ezra himself wasn't much of a coffee drinker, but he loved the smell. He also knew that Ryliee would like need the caffeine, so he decided to be helpful and have everything prepared when it was done. Then, just as silently as before, he slid back into his chair, opened a small ledger, and checked the itinerary for the day. The work load had gotten more significant since the recent retirement of their recent third partner, an older gentleman named Peter Graham.

"Our first appointment's in an hour," he said, at last piercing the start silence in the office. "Mysterious deaths downtown. Police are as inept as always. Locals want our help, and they already paid. We'll have to leave in about twenty minutes."

Ryliee had almost fallen back to sleep at her desk, as uncomfortable as it was, but the smell of coffee, and the sound of it brewing made her open her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her head groaning. With a quick glance at Ezra, she could only assume he was the one who made the coffee since there was no one else around. Sometimes the two of them didn't see eye to eye, but he definitely knew what would make her act less of an asshole. He was observant, she'd give him that, even if social interactions completely flew over his head. Ryliee wasn't a social butterfly by any means, but at least she understood body language, and she could read people quite well.

As he spoke, she shuffled to the coffee pot and got a cup. Holding the warming glass in her hands, she hummed in contentment, the smell alone waking her up more. Before she responded to him, she finished her one cup and got a second, already feeling like she hated the day less and less with each drink. An appointment. Great. Unlike her partner, Ryliee did not look the part to belong in D.I.S. and was often given strange looks when introduced. She didn't mind, but her appearance tended to put some people off, and as amusing as it was, the same comments got old quickly.

"I hope this one is more interesting than the last one. A girl needs a little excitement in her life every now and then~" With her cup in hand, she sat on the edge of his desk, crossing her legs, peering over at the ledger he was looking at. Making a face, she downed the rest of her coffee. "Might as well just go now.. get this shit over with."

"This is a different kind of case," Ezra responded, his voice flat and even, showing no emotion one way or another. "According to the report, at least fifteen people have died in the last week... same cause of death, but no definitive link between the murders. The locations were random, included both humans and Metas, no notable interaction between any of them. But the FBI believe that there's more to it than a serial killer. They think these people are targeted." Nimbly Ezra began to 'clean up' his desk, which basically meant that everything had to be in it's proper place before he left.

"We're going to be meeting with the Deputy Director, so we need to be tactful. Remember where our funding comes from. That doesn't mean rollover to everything he says, but try not to piss him off please."

Clapping the folder closed, Ezra shoved his chair backwards and made way for the door. Though it was still cold outside, he wore no jacket. Ezra never wore a jacket, it seemed. His power kept him plenty warm, as well as providing heat for the rest of the office. To be honest, he wasn't sure if Ryliee had caught on that he was their primary source of heat in the office. The door squeaked open and out he strode toward the elevator, speaking to no one on the way. He did, however, hold the elevator until Ryliee joined him.

Ryliee audibly groaned, as she slid off his desk and over to the sink to drop her coffee cup. The Deputy Director annoyed the crap out of her, and was constantly badgering her about her appearance. Apparently it wasn't "professional" enough for him.. well, he could suck it. Ryliee-Alexis changed for no one and nothing. Who cared what she looked like as long as the job got done? With a sigh, she mentally prepared herself, repeating in her mind that he was a douche and she could make it through one meeting without insulting him, or telling him to fuck off.

As she strolled down the hallway at her lazy pace, she got the same weird looks from the same average, normal, boring looking people. With a flourish, she turned around walking backwards, flipping them all off. With a final backwards step into the elevator she stuck her tongue out, and snickered at the offended glances she got. It made her giggle at how easily people were taken aback by her attitude.

"You'd think they'd be used to it by now.." Ryliee murmured under her breath, leaning back against the wall of the elevator, with her arms crossed. As much as she loved fucking with people her mood had not gotten any better since she found out who their meeting was with.

Ezra kept his eyes forward, not so much as twitching as Ryliee slid into the elevator and the doors came together. "Just because they are used to something doesn't mean the don't get offended every time you do it." In all honesty Ezra didn't care about how she dressed, or how others reacted to her. People who drew conclusions based on appearance were fools who deserved whatever Fate had in store for them. "Their disdain for you has almost nothing to do with the way you dress. But putting your fingers on the corners of your lips and flicking your tongue at people isn't the best way to win friends."

Rule number 12: Let them assume while you prepare to slit their throats.

Of course they were not in a life or death situation, but that didn't mean that he had to be unprepared for one. He would rather let them think they were freaks and offensive rather than think them weak. No matter how many dirty looks Ryliee was given, Ezra hadn't seen one official complaint come by his desk. They were feared, and that was just fine.

The elevator continued it's journey to the basement parking garage. The doors slid open, revealing a vast parking lot full of sedans, SUVs, and motorcycles. Ezra's own bike was housed within, but he didn't take that to meetings. The company car was more than sufficient. A brand new Lexus GS-F in black and chrome awaited them only a few spots away. Clearly a waste of tax-payer dollars, Ezra had no qualms with pushing the speed limits every chance he gets. Most police officers had actually stopped pulling him over, mostly because they could not catch him.

He wouldn't pay the ticket anyway.

"Friends?" Ryliee stepped out of the elevator with a scoff heading towards the car. "Who the fuck said anything about friends?" She ran her fingers through her short locks, rolling her eyes. "Friends are for the weak. They're useless flesh bags full of hot air and bullshit~!" She dragged the last word out, ending with a laugh.

Jumping into the passenger seat, she propped her feet up on the dashboard, not caring that she was flashing her shorts to anyone who would look. Crossing her booted feet, she leaned her seat back, closing her eyes. "Oh, try not to get us killed on the way there. I know you like to play with the pigs, but I'd rather not have the temptation to flip a car before our meeting with the Deputy Douche."

Ryliee lacked a filter between her brain and mouth. Whatever she thought, flew out of her lips almost faster than she could think them, and it often got her into trouble. Not like she cared too much, but sometimes it caused problems with their investigations, especially if she got temporarily suspended. So, as she sat there in her own world, she tried to clear her mind of the dark mass of hateful thoughts, so she didn't feel the compulsion to make someone cry with her fiery wit.

Ezra did not comment further on the idea of friends, for he actually shared a similar view. His time at the Academy had taught him a great deal, including relationships with other people and animals. He kept no pets, no friends, and no more family. It had been years since he had even seen his parents, or his sister...

The throaty engine roared down the streets of Tokyo, the sun still rising in the distance. They were headed West, keeping the sun out of their eyes. Ryliee's unladylike posture did not bother him. To be bothered, he would have to care. To care would only bring problems.

"We'll be there in a few minutes. We have to be on our best behavior here. Remember these people fund our entire operation. Try not to pass him off. We'll get in, get the job, and get out."

Ryliee remained lost in her own mind with her eyes closed. Several times, she drifted in and out of a light sleep; the movement of the vehicle teasingly lulled her into the grasp of oblivion, only to yank her back out again. The process was not only irritating, but tiring. Ezra speaking pulled her out of her own little world and she sat up.

"I won't say or do anything," Ryliee rolled her eyes, "as long as he keeps his mouth shut." If the Deputy Director could behave, she could behave, but if something set her off she couldn't promise to keep quiet.

She turned her gaze on Ezra, watching him for a moment. He was always stoic, all the time. She almost wondered if he ever smiled, or laughed. Or if he had a life outside of the D.S.I. which was doubtful considering how early he came in in the morning. Considering it for a moment, she shrugged, deciding she didn't care and turned to stare out the window.

"It should be a crime to work this early in the morning.." she murmured.

"Oh quit complaining," Ezra said, just as dryly as ever. "It could be much worse." Instantly flashes of memory invade the forefront of his thoughts. Images of death, chaos, war, and crazed Metas flooded his mind like a Zerg rush. The young man rubbed his eyes briefly, trying to push away the memories that had usually haunted him only in the wee hours of the morning. It seemed to him that, lately, that those memories had been surfacing more frequently. He failed to shove the moments of anxiety but buried it quite well. He was, after all, an oak.

The sedan screeched to a halt suddenly, the tires barking briefly before catching traction. They had arrived at their destination. In all honesty, the building was quite nondescript and unremarkable with the exception of a small sign bolted to the building, just above the front door:

'Nagashiri Paper Company'

A front, of course, for the DIS, it served as a safe meeting place between Ezra's group and, quite frankly, most everyone else. They would have clients come to their door occasionally, but any government work was negotiated at Podeski and Sons in order to limit risk. Quickly whipping into a parking place, Ezra set the emergency brake then turn his head toward his compatriot, his heterochromic eyes fixated on her. "I don't need to tell you what to do if he does get out of line, but whatever is going on is more unusual than usual. Something isn't right here... I don't know what, but I want you to be on your toes."

After a moment, Ezra opened his door, slid out of the vehicle, then took a quick look around. Something strange was gnawing away at the back of his mind, a feeling of uneasiness. There were fewer cars than normal in the lot, and he recognized none of them. The birds seemed unusually quieter than normal, traffic seemed lighter, even the sky seemed to be colored slightly differently. The anxiety settled into Ezra's stomach as he strode toward the door, all the while gathering himself in preparation for anything he could dream up.

Ryliee glared at Ezra, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, and instead braced herself against the dashboard as the vehicle came to a grinding halt. She managed to barely stop herself from slamming head first into it, as she wasn't wearing her seatbelt. "I don't see how it could be worse. I have to get up at the ass crack of dawn, then spend my entire day with you. Do you have any idea how boring you are?" Ryliee grumbled. In her mind, it would be better to work all night, then sleep all day.

Sliding out of the car, she rolled her eyes again, shaking her head. Ezra was just paranoid. Ever since she met him, he was always the same, never changing. Paranoid, stoic, boring. No sense of humor at all. Ryliee half wondered if he was born that way, or if he ever smiled or had fun. But, then again, with what she knew, and what she'd guessed, she could kind of understand the paranoia. Especially if it ever got out to the public.

With a sigh, Ryliee prepared her mind and body just in case Ezra was right. In all honesty, she assumed he was overreacting, so when they entered the building she didn't care to notice the slight differences; less people, and those that were there, none she recognized, their eyes burning into the two of them. It was quieter, too, not the normal chatter and background noise she was used to. But she didn't notice, she hardly needed to with Ezra right there. He'd see and notice, and much to her dismay, he'd probably point them out to her like she couldn't see herself.

"Calm down, I think you're over thinking this whole thing. It's still early, and you're making me antsy."

"I am calm. I'm just... alert." Ezra's response was slightly wispy, as if he was only half-paying attention to what he was saying. In all honesty, he had forgotten what he said as soon as he'd said it, for his mind was focused on other things. Normally, people would glance at them as they walked by, pausing perhaps to stare at Ryliee, to glare at her for her as-usual inappropriate work attire. But today they received the gazes of almost everyone that could see them. They were not angry, they were not calm, and they were definitely not respectful or friendly. It was the look one had while watching an enemy walk by. They were practically pointing guns at them, despite the fact that no weapons were readily apparent. Ezra's mind was clear and sharp, waiting for something to go wrong.

But nothing happened. They crossed the building and entered an elevator that would take them directly to Deputy Director Cook's office. As the liaison for the Tokyo division, Cook provided intel to field agents, oversaw operations, handled disputes, and was in charge of basically everyone working in Japan under the D.I.S. His burden was a heavy one, and he often took it out on those beneath him. Ezra was still on edge as they entered the elevator, but kept his thoughts on the subject to himself. If something was, indeed, awry, he didn't want to give away his suspicions.

'Know everything about them, and give them nothing...'

His father's words of 'advice' echoed in his mind. Secretly he missed the training he'd received under his tutelage. Sure, it was abusive and almost killed him many times, as well as mentally and emotionally scarring him for life. But it was a simpler time. Follow the rules and live. Forget them and die. Life was black and white back then. It wasn't until Freesia Academy and the revolt that things had become gray area for Ezra. It wasn't fair... why did he have to go to that damned place? Why did he think that things would actually be better? What made him think that...

"Going to be a nice day today. Couldn't ask for better weather," he finally said as the doors closed them in. Internally he hoped that she remembered what he'd said when she first started, to trust no one, and to remember the code in case open speech was not available to them. His words were a warning; something was definitely wrong, and it wasn't going to end well for anyone. He wished that he and Ryliee shared the same bond as he did with some of the others at Freesia, that he could open up with his hidden ability and share his emotions and thoughts, to speak to her mind directly. But sadly he could not bring himself to do so. They had both made it very clear that neither one was looking for friendship, so there was no reason for her to know everything he could do.

As the elevator doors closed, a cold dark look fell on Ryliee's face. She was used to being stared at, but those were not curious gazes.. they were the same looks she used to get from the Mundanes, before everything had calmed down between the ones with abilities, and the ones without. Ones of hatred, full of threats and anticipated aggressive action. Her fingers twitched, as she resisted the urge to stop the elevator and confront those angry eyes.

"I'm kind of hoping for a storm." Ryliee responded, the usual amusement nowhere to be found in her tone. A part of her, a dark, twisted part of her was hoping for a confrontation. She wanted to fight. The looks they had received brought back a deep seated hatred, she thought she'd let go of a long time ago. Ryliee clenched her hands into tight fists, her fingernails digging into her palm. If she didn't calm down, something bad was going to happen, and she didn't want that. As much as she complained, she really didn't mind working with her boring partner every day.

Ryliee closed her eyes and took a deep breath, only reopening them when the elevator buzzed and the doors opened to their Directors office. Bracing herself, she took so glance at Ezra and stepped into the man's office.

"Ah, yes... come in." Deputy Directory Cook stood at his desk to greet his guests, a courtesy he often offered, though the sentiment seemed almost sarcastic most of the time. He stood easily half a head taller than Ezra, with thick salt-and-pepper hair and a goatee to match. His suit was neatly pressed, as always, and the room was filled with aromatic colognes. It reminded Ezra of a casino/hotel he'd been to when he was young, though he could not remember the name. A giant glass pyramid was the only image he could recall. Without hesitation the young man entered the office, just as he had done every preceding visit. Cook did not offer a hand to shake, and neither did Ezra.

"Director Cook," Ezra nodded slightly, acknowledging his authority but only barely. The two had never had a great working relationship, no secret there, but today the tension was almost palpable. Cook turned his attention to Ryliee, giving her a quick look while his upper lip raised slightly with displeasure.

"Ryliee, you're looking... appropriate as always." The amount of sarcasm dripping from his voice left an invisible pool at their feet.

"I'll get right to the point. You're to drop all your current activities and give this job your absolute attention. A number of important people are dead or missing and we're not sure why. Whoever is responsible is smart, methodical, and likely a Meta. They never leave a clue, never a trace that they'd even been there except for two things." Cook turned and grabbed two files off his desk, handing one to Ryliee, then to Ezra. "... a body, and a calling card." The photo of the corpses all showed the same image, branded onto the victim's chest: A crescent moon and a broken sword, finely burned into the flesh as if the artist had spent hours in the making.

Ryliee didn't respond to the Director, because any response would be sarcastic and rude, and Ezra had asked her to be on good behavior. Turning her attention to the folder in her hand, she blocked out what the Director was saying, his grating voice beginning to get on her nerves. She shifted on her feet and looked at Ezra, then the Deputy. "I want to see the bodies, all autopsy reports, and I'm going to need access to lab equipment. Mun--err, humans can't see what I can. There has to be something out of the primary here other than this."

Ryliee may not have fit the normal parameters for am agent, but her ability made her uniquely in tune with human anatomy. It was one of the main reasons for her being chosen to be on the team, and why her attire and bad attitude was bypassed. She closed her folder and put a hand on her hip, impatiently. If it was a Meta, then whoever was doing this had to know that the D.I.S. would be called and other Metas would be looking into it. They might have gotten sloppy, or purposefully left a clue only Metas would understand.

"I need to see them immediately. All of them."

"You'll have everything you need. All current reports are in this case." The Director turned slowly and took hold of a briefcase on his desk, but just enough to grab the item without turning his back to either Ryliee or Ezra. Simply working together didn't mean that he trusted them, and the feeling was mutual in Ezra's mind. Their's was a working relationship only, certainly nothing resembling friendship or even mutual respect. They both understand that their association was symbiotic; one could not operate without the other. Cook had an ace in the hole in them, while Ezra used the cases to further his own agendas. He doubted highly that Ryliee had put everything together yet. The rabbit hole was, after all, quite deep.

Ezra stared down at the case, both orbs fixed on the handle specifically. Cook didn't seem particularly on edge. His knuckles weren't white from clenched fists, his palms didn't appear sweaty, and his hold was firm and still, like an undisturbed pond. He didn't reach out for it, as the case wasn't offered to him. It was, instead, held out to Ryliee. Everything seemed normal to Ezra, causing him to wonder where the feeling of unease was coming from. "Where is the lab?"

"Tokyo Metro Police building, floor b2. You'll have to show ID to get to the elevator, but you should have all the clearance you need. The elevator will require a keycard to go to that floor. They are in the case, along with all the notes, files, and everything we could collect from the scenes. Bodies are going to be harder to come by... the ones we have have been stripped of identifying features. Finger prints, faces, teeth... all 'removed'. Some bodies were never officially found.

"Then how do you know they're dead," Ezra interrupted.

"Because surveillance footage shows them being turned into soot."

Ryliee took the case and shifted on her feet, her eyes lighting up for a moment. "Soot? You kept it right? You have the soot piles?" She tried to keep the excitement out of her voice, but this case was becoming more and more interesting the more she heard about it. Ryliee wasn't sure what she was more excited about; examining the bodies or hunting down the son of a bitch responsible.

In all honesty, what she wanted the most at that moment was to leave the Directors office. She wanted to examine the bodies, to find the clues, to figure out how they were killed and why. Talking with the director and getting case files was boring. Ryliee was never one to sit and look at the details on paper, she liked to figure it out on her own. Turning her gaze to Ezra she put her free hand on her hip. "Are we done here? Can we go now?" Ryliee didn't care if she sounded rude or impatient, it should have been expected. If everything they needed was in the case, and in the lab, then why were they standing around?

Ryliee frowned, again shifting on her feet. The Directors scrutinizing gaze made her uncomfortable, but she knew it was more than that. Humans in general made her feel that way, even some Metas. Living, breathing people put her in an uneasy position, she preferred the bodies, with their unfeeling eyes, and their non judgmental silence. Dead people didn't care what she wore, or that she had an attitude. They were dead, what did it matter if the person examining them was less than professional? "If there is nothing else... I'd like to go. Those bodies aren't going to stay fresh for much longer.."

Sensing Ryliee's urgency, Ezra turned his gaze to Director Cook and spoke firmly. He did, however, choose his words carefully. "I think we have what we need. We'll be in touch." With a small nod, Ezra headed toward the door, his left hand holding Ryliee's arm. It was something he didn't do often; physical contact had become somewhat alien to him since he joined the D.I.S. He only used it when the situation left him no choice, or warranted a response contrary to his usual mannerisms. Without speaking to her, he was telling her that it was time to go with urgency. He wasn't just being paranoid before. Something was definitely wrong, as a feeling crept up his spine so coldly that he almost shivered. Pressing the button to the elevator door, Ezra stopped and waited impatiently.

"Old habits die hard," Deputy Director Cook said aloud, a slight smile peeking out of the corner of his mouth. "Wouldn't you agree?" With his back turned, Ezra could trust only his hearing as the match struck the sandpaper on the side of it's container. Cook took a long, deep inhale from his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before exhaling. "Some folks still think there's a war going on. You both just make sure you remember who you work for." Ezra held his tongue and clenched his jaw. It was as close to a threat as having a gun trained on them. For all he knew, there really was a firearm pointed at their heads, just waiting for the word to strike. But no bullet flew. No order was given. The elevator door slid open quietly and Ezra marched inside. Turning back, he locked eyes with Cook and narrowed his vision.

"We'll be seeing you..." he said as the doors closed.

Before the elevator closed Ryliee muttered under her breath, her voice cold. "Just as long as you remember who you've got working under you." Her free hand clenched into a fist, and the next drag the director tried to take off his cigarette, nothing happened. She had prevented oxygen getting to the lit end, successfully putting it out. Ryliee didn't take to being threatened, by Mundanes or Metas. Anyone who tried usually got more than just a burnt out cigarette.

When the elevator started to take them back to the ground floor, Ryliee sighed and leaned against the wall. "I hate that dickweed. He just..." she sighed again, the sound mixed with a soft growl. If she hadn't exercised control, the Director would have been lying on his office floor gasping for air, instead she put his cigarette out. In a way, she was jealous of the Metas that went around and did as they pleased. They weren't held under the same scrutiny as she was, they weren't expected to uphold the law, to push their abilities down and drown in the normality. Ryliee hated it with a passion. If she wasn't forced to do be "good", she probably end up being bad.

Very, very bad.

The door slid shut and the pair of Metas made their way back to the main floor. Ezra stayed absolutely still as he tried to process the conversation, and all the suspicious behavior he'd witnessed before the meeting. Cook was no different than he normally was; the man had an outstanding poker face. Every fiber of his being screamed that something was wrong. Something was pushing him to bolt out of the building as quickly as possible, but no matter how hard he tried he could not quite put his finger on the cause. He inched toward the door slowly, as if a knife were poking him in the back, beckoning him to tear the doors off and evacuate.

"So do I," he breathed, the hot air leaving his lips quietly but audibly. Finally the doors slid open, allowing fresh air to enter the small compartment. It was a welcome relief to the oppressive feeling of the closed elevator and the stifling atmosphere in Cook's office. On the main level, not much had changed. The same kind of people walked by, glancing at them, mumbling about them. It was clear that Ryliee and Ezra were under watchful eyes, there was no ignoring that. The question that remained: Who was watching and why?

Ryliee could feel the tension as they stepped off the elevator, and she couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something screaming inside of her to get out of that building as fast as she could. Not letting her apprehension show on the outside, she maintained a flat, bored look on her face as she strolled out of the building towards the car. Instead of focusing on the dark mass of twisting hatred forming in her chest, she turned her brilliant mind to the thought of getting to the bodies and soot piles. There had to be something, some kind of clue that could help them.

Slipping into the car, Ryliee propped her feet on the dashboard again and opened up the case. IDs were right on top, and underneath were the notes and reports she was looking for. "Fantastic.." She murmured. Her brain was officially in search mode as she studied the words, and looked over the pictures. There were shots of the soot piles, a close up of the branded mark. "Hm. This is... Interesting.." Not specifically speaking to her partner, she mumbled to herself as she studied and memorized the files.

Once back at their vehicle, Ezra breathed a long sigh of relief. He waited a moment before starting the car, and another before he put it in drive and started toward the latest crime scene. The staring he was quite used to, as well as the mumbling. But the way they moved bothered him deeply, as if they were waiting for Rylie or himself to suddenly start attacking people.

"Tell me you see something useful, cause I have a feeling that we won't get much out of the actual scene. The vultures have already picked through most of it, I'd assume. Of course that didn't mean they got everything." It was no secret that the pair often discovered clues and information that others had overlooked. On fact, it was a very common occurrence. However, a growing trend seemed to be directly tampering with the area to make their lives more difficult.

Ryliee looked up, a slender eyebrow raising. He'd said something, hadn't he? Racking her brain, she frowned, turning her gaze to him. "No. But it is not what I found, but what I haven't. I need to examine the bodies, the soot. I need to see everything in person." Her attention going back to the papers in her hands, she sighed, closing the case.

"I don't think I was given the full report. Fucking twat did this on purpose." Ryliee growled. "Why do they insist on testing me?" She paused as a sick grin twisted her features. "I can give them something to test..." Working for Mundanes, under them, needing to follow their laws and instruction made her sick. They were insufferably ignorant, and arrogant. Ryliee vowed a long time ago that she would find a way to put them in their place.

“What bodies,” Ezra questioned quietly under his breath. Still, he did not dispute Rylie’s prowess when it came to crime scene investigation and forensics. She was extraordinarily gifted and well read on the subject. Since joining the agency, her skills had been invaluable in the apprehension of many Enhanced individuals. It was no secret that she thought herself above the Mundanes they fought to protect, but her position did allow her to exercise her abilities legally, with a badge and full credentials to operate in nearly any country and nearly any jurisdiction. It was a unique opportunity, one that very few Aberrants ever really experienced.

After half a mile, Ezra reached down and started some music. The sounds of old school Metallica blared loudly through the speakers and out the window, flowing around his arm which was also hanging out. Ezra watched his mirrors, catching sight of multiple black vehicles spaced evenly throughout the trailing traffic. Though black was a common color, it did cause him to take notice because, according to his speedometer, they were north of 95mph and each black vehicle was doing a decent job of keeping up while maintaining a ‘safe distance’. Ezra was not terribly alarmed, as they were making no aggressive actions, but he did make sure to keep his eye on them.

“When we get there, I’ll leave the bodies to you. I’ll take the perimeter and find everything those goons missed in their initial search. Those idiots never get everything.” It was a true enough statement, and Ezra’s disdain for the incompetent was as clear as crystal.

The next words, however, to leave Ezra’s mouth were spoken… differently. There was an aura of authority to them, and though he added no volume, no volume needed to be added.

“I want you to watch your back on this one. There’s something going on that we’re not completely aware of yet.” Ezra let the warning hang in the air for her to absorb. While he did not really care if she’d heard the initial commands, the last bit was extremely important, and he would make sure she understood the gravity of his statement before returning his eyes to the road